


too little too late

by onakissgodknows



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24104212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: Coda to episode 65. Jon tries to smooth things over with Tim. It goes as well as expected.
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	too little too late

**Author's Note:**

> I've been hopping from fandom to fandom like crazy lately, call it the COVID-19 effect, but at least I wrote something! I am listening to TMA for the first time and episode 65 made me feel things. I beg of u not to spoil anything for me in the comments. Please.

When Tim leaves Jon’s office he gets partway down the hallway back to his desk before he has to stop. To pause, lean against the wall, cover his face with his hands, try to catch his breath, sink to the floor, wish he had never taken this job or met Jonathan Sims –

“Tim?”

Tim opens his eyes and Sasha is standing above him, head cocked curiously to the side.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says, keeping his tone as light as he can manage as he scrambles back to his feet. “Yeah, just got a bit dizzy for a sec. Not really sleeping lately, you know.”

“I know,” Sasha says, and for a moment she looks sorry, but lately Sasha makes a point of avoiding chit-chat with her colleagues, even to offer comfort. Tim can’t say he blames her. “Take a nap over lunch, maybe? I’m just heading off for mine.”

“Sure. Maybe.”

Tim watches her go. Taking a nap over lunch isn’t an option, though, because Martin is hovering around, attempting – _painfully_ – to be cheerful, asking if he wants tea until Tim finally snaps, “No, Martin, I don’t want fucking tea,” and Martin looks like he’s been slapped and slinks off. So Tim feels bad, then, but also not because Martin’s far too diplomatic as far as this whole _Jon_ thing goes.

He will, of course, apologize to Martin later and Martin will accept his apology without a thought and remind Tim that they’ve all been through a lot.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully and by four o’clock Tim goes to Jon’s office to slam a stack of paperwork onto his desk. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I might go home early.”

Jon barely looks up. “Yes, that’s – that’s fine. I thought I might do the same.”

Tim scoffs. Jon hasn’t left the institute before six since – Tim can’t even remember when. “Sure. Just wait til I’m gone, would you? Can’t be looking over my shoulder the whole way home.”

Tim turns to go, but Jon stands. “Tim.”

“Look, Jon, I really should go, and I don’t see any point in talking if we’re only going to scream at each other.”

“I’m not going to scream at you.” Jon walks around his desk so there’s no barrier between them and leans up against it, folding his arms across his chest. He’s not that short a man, long and lanky, but he has a bad habit of slouching, which makes him seem smaller than he is. The scars on his face are red and angry; Tim keeps thinking they’ll fade, but they’re still so new, just like the ones on Tim’s own face that he tries to avoid looking at every time he passes a mirror. “Tim, I’m sorry for what you’ve been through.”

Tim begins to laugh. “You’re sorry. _Now_ you’re sorry.”

“It isn’t as if I haven’t had enough problems of my own,” Jon says sharply, now looking like he might regret extending the olive branch.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all about it.”

“No – that is to say, Tim, I _am_ sorry. The fact that I don’t trust you doesn’t change that.”

“Right. Whatever.” Tim rubs his face. “You know, Jon, I used to think we were friends? Thought that was why you were so bloody insistent I come work down here too once you got the archivist job.”

Jon’s expression is largely unreadable, as usual, but there’s a flicker of something else there, something like hurt or regret. “We were – “ He clears his throat. “I suppose we were as friendly as any pair of colleagues, but I’m not sure there’s any reason to read more deeply – “

“Oh, fuck off, Jon,” Tim says with a groan. “We were friends, we were _friendly_ , we got on, however the hell you want to say it. In fact, I was sort of pleased you wanted me to come work here with you. Thought it meant you trusted me.”

“I trusted your _work_.” Every word Jon says feels like he’s grinding it out through gritted teeth. “Which I still do.”

“Thanks, Jon. Big comfort.” As if Tim can truly care about the work in a time like this. The only thing that keeps him going is the hope that somewhere in this mess of statements, they might find answers – yet even if Jon does stumble upon something like resolution, he’s not sure he trusts Jon to share it with the rest of them.

“Right,” Jon says. “Good. Are we okay?”

Tim can’t really put into words the immense betrayal and violation Jon’s done him lately. Should he even try? “No, we’re not okay.”

Jon doesn’t look surprised.

“I haven’t been able to sleep, Jon.”

“And you think I have?” Jon demands incredulously.

“I’m sure you haven’t, but I can’t sleep in my own bloody home!” Tim says. “Not until I’ve checked the locks and the windows three times at least, made sure the curtains are all drawn, checked up and down the street to make sure your creepy little arse isn’t hiding out there with a pair of binoculars or something!”

Jon looks stricken, and if there’s anything he might actually feel bad for, it might be this. “Listen, Tim, about your house – “

“The best part of this is that it was Martin who told me you had the photos of my house. And he clearly didn’t want to either, it was clear that he was just worried about _you_ – “

“Tim, I won’t apologize for defending myself but I’m sorry about going to your house!” Jon interrupts sharply. “It was only one time. I know that doesn’t make it better, but I was only there once, and I won’t go back. I hope you can sleep easier knowing that.”

Tim snorts. “Sure. I’ll try.” He probably won’t, but how kind of Jon to offer this reassurance.

It’s too little, too late, and judging from Jon’s face, Jon knows it too. Anyway, it’s not that Jon cares, certainly. As of a week ago, as far as Jon was concerned, Tim was simply number one on his list of suspects for Gertrude’s murder (never mind that the police had clearly considered Jon the top suspect from the get-go).

The whole situation sucks. It really bloody sucks.

Tim doesn’t even realize he’s said this last sentence out loud until Jon cocks his head at him and says “What?”

“Everything,” Tim says without missing a beat. “But especially you.”

“You’ve made your feelings quite clear,” Jon says icily, and begins to pack up his things. “And you were correct when you came in, there’s nothing to be gained if we continue to yell at each other, so as long as we both understand – “

“I don’t think you do understand, Jon,” Tim says, and Jon stops. “You’re the only person who went through the same thing I did, and when you came back to work you just – withdrew. You decided I wasn’t worth your time anymore.”

“I had other, rather pressing matters on my mind,” Jon says through his teeth.

“Matters that involved suspecting I was in on a plot to kill you?” Tim laughs. He touches his own face, feeling the scars there. “I don’t expect you to talk about it. But some sort of understanding that we both went through this would have been nice. Sasha’s not particularly talkative lately, and Martin’s pretending it never happened, and I get it, both of them went through their own versions of trauma that day and I won’t pretend to understand theirs. But you and I – Jon, when I say I got eaten by worms because of you, that’s true, but it’s not only because of you, but _with_ you and _for_ you, and for this goddamn _archive_!” He can still feel them if he thinks too hard – crawling, biting, _burrowing_ their way into his skin and his nightmares. He shudders. “I didn’t know what you were asking of me when you asked me to come here.”

“Neither did I,” Jon says shortly. “Tim, have you considered getting therapy?”

Tim laughs again. “Oh, that’ll go over well. ‘You say you were eaten by worms, Mr. Stoker? Fascinating. Would you mind having a seat in the waiting room while we call the nearest psych ward?’ I’ll pass. No, Jon, the only other person who could possibly understand what happened to me thinks I’m a killer. I’m quite alone.”

Jon has finished packing his shoulder bag, and slings it over his back. It looks heavy enough that Tim thinks now maybe he understands where Jon picked up his slouching habit. “Unfortunately, I think we are all alone.”

“Aren’t you cheery.” Tim’s too tired to put any bite behind his words.

“Always,” Jon says, grim. “Look, whatever else you think of me, you should know that what happened to you has not escaped my notice, and I’m – it’s troubling, and I am sorry you haven’t felt more support. I – I’m afraid I can’t talk much about it, as….well, I feel rather guilty.”

Jon should feel guilty, because it is Jon’s fault, but this is as close to accepting responsibility for this as Jon will get. Tim supposes that’s not entirely wrong. Tim _could_ have said no to this job, he could have stayed in research where he was happy. Still, something had compelled him to join Jon on this new journey, and Tim can’t place whether it was Jon himself that compelled him here, or if there’s some other force tugging him forward and sweeping him along for the ride. Neither option is appealing, so maybe Tim only blames Jon because it’s better than the alternative.

It also gives him something concrete to be angry at. Maybe that’s what Jon’s obsessive hunt for Gertrude’s killer is about anyway. If he forces himself to believe it was Tim or Sasha, he doesn’t have to consider the possibility that it was someone – or something – else.

Jon moves to the door and pauses before exiting. He reaches over and puts a hand on Tim’s shoulder and squeezes gently. Tim surprises himself by not pulling away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jon says, resigned.

“See you,” Tim says, equally resigned, and Jon slips out the door, leaving Tim as unsatisfied as he’d been when he entered.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, PLEASE do not post spoilers if you comment, I love you for reading this but please. 
> 
> I love both Tim and Jon and possibly ship them a little bit but Jon was so wrong in the way he's been treating Tim lmao he deserves all callouts.
> 
> I'll probably be all caught up on this podcast within a couple weeks but for now I am in the dark on anything that happens beyond episode 65 and I like it this way. THANKS FOR READING FAM and feel free to chat with me on [tumblr](https://swiftjolras.tumblr.com/)if you like.


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